


Two Times Lord John Wondered If He Was A Pervert and The One Time He Didn’t

by AbbyDebeaupre



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Car Sex, Dating Sisters, Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, M/M Lusting, Multi, NaughtyJamie!, Overall MacDaddiness, Queerlander, Voyeurism, confused!john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 21:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15082106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyDebeaupre/pseuds/AbbyDebeaupre
Summary: @thelallybrochlibrary's Queerlander Exchange-  Prompt # 34: “Jamie and John have an interesting history.”Part One- The College Years





	Two Times Lord John Wondered If He Was A Pervert and The One Time He Didn’t

**Author's Note:**

> @katnoenau dropped me a prompt for @thelallybrochlibrary’s Queerlander - asking for a return of MacDaddy Whisper to A Scream. As many of you have surmised the blonde Claire gave a lap dance to in front of Jamie was indeed John. You can read that bit of silliness in the earlier chapter here. This work will be released in three parts, this is Part One.
> 
> The title comes from Chapter 33 of Echo in the Bone- John, in Paris, visits the Beauchamp family seat trying to learn what Percy Beauchamp is up to. John recalls his earlier discussion with Percy about Percy’s wife and her brother, the Baron Amandine. “Both, on occasion. Together? While greeting the Baron, John has a physical reaction, speculates whether the sister (Percy’s wife) is in residence and thinks, “For one of the few times in his life, Grey wondered seriously whether he might be a pervert.”

 

“Jamie, lad, just the man I wanted to see.” 

 

Jamie hesitated in the doorway, uncertain whether he wanted to cross the threshold. 

 

“Do ye come in, I want to introduce you. John Grey, this is my godson Jamie Fraser.” 

 

Jamie did the polite thing, offering his hand in greeting. There was a momentary zing as their hands touched and Jamie found his eyes locking with John’s. He recovered quickly, inquiring about the start of John’s first semester at the National College. 

 

Murtagh’s role as Faculty Master of Fletcher Hall had guaranteed Jamie one of the corner suites all to himself every year. Playing welcome wagon to Murtagh’s underclassmen was a small price to pay in return. Unfortunately, his timing, as usual, was horrible. Jamie was already running late. 

 

“Well, it was nice to meet you John, but I need to get going,” His eyes cut over to Murtagh’s “Carver Hall.” He said by way of explanation. 

 

“Well, that’s convenient, John was just saying he had no plans for this evening. Take him with you.” This was not a suggestion. 

 

“It’s the thing I’m doing on stage….” Jamie said in a leading tone accompanied by waggling eyebrows. 

 

“Och, I ken. The drama department has been buzzing about it for the last two weeks. Go on John, have a nice evening.” 

 

Jamie gave in with good humor, talking as they made their way across the quad. He had ruddy, long hair tied back, a broad, powerful build. Jamie focused on John and hadn’t said much about himself. 

 

“Are you an actor, then?” John inquired. 

 

“Sometimes,  but not really. Just the odd part now and again.” Jamie said laughing in that self deprecating way John thought common to many Scots. As they neared the auditorium Jamie reached out a hand and halted their progress, ignoring the students streaming past them. “This is an experimental piece. It’s a bit raw.” He warned. 

 

“Ah. Well, what is the point of higher education if not to expand our horizons?”

 

“Oh aye, but ---” 

 

“Christ, we thought you’d never make it on time, hurry up man, curtain in three and yer no’ even ready!” A rotund cheerful man in full beard was pulling Jamie’s arm determinedly. 

 

“Dinna fash, Rupert, it’s no trouble getting in costume. I’ll leave ye to find a seat, John. If we dinna horrify you between now and the end, mayhap I’ll see you later.”

 

The name of the piece was  _ Caduceus  _ and John was riveted from the moment James Fraser walked on stage, stark naked. John let out an audible breath at the sight and couldn’t help but notice his reaction was far from unique. Jamie was beautiful to watch. As he moved through the space.

 

The work was an exploration of identity and sexuality. As the play unfolded, Jamie’s character hooked up with different men and women and in the process morphed from hetrosexual man into someone androgynous and asexual, all the while covering more and more of his body in clothing until there was almost no bare skin at all. 

 

In contrast another character first appeared small and slight, dark hair obscuring facial features, swathed in layers of garments. John watched as sexual exploration helped the character transform from a being with no identifiable gender or sexual orientation into a straight woman standing as bare as Jamie had begun. 

 

Both leads held his interest from start  to finish as they acted out the spectrum of human sexual interaction, mirror image journeys in reverse. Jamie somehow...diminished himself, becoming anonymous in every way-- a true feat for someone as striking in appearance as the red headed Scot just as the female lead grew more self-assured, revealing herself layer by layer. 

 

It was undoubtedly a bit of a rough production, there were brief interludes of simulated sex --he had no idea how’d they done it-- good lighting? Prosthetics? Sleight of hand (this last thought making John snicker like a randy school kid-- then snort once more as he realized he _was_ a randy school kid-- or at least he knew he must seem so to the worldlier upperclassman).  However they had done it, given the subject matter and various states of undress, well...John found it confusing and erotic and provocative. 

 

The more John thought of the visual symbolism of the work-- its starting points, the spectrum of sexual interaction depicted, what it meant to cover and uncover one’s self, how the characters reacted, how the viewer processed it, the more admiration he had for the production. It was an insidiously brilliant little play--just over an hour in length and he knew he’d keep thinking about it even months down the road.  

 

John had no difficulties with the fact that he was gay, he’d known himself to be since a young age. Growing up he’d believed that sexuality divided the world in two distinct spheres  gay or straight. You either were or you weren’t. Most men he knew did have  _ some _ experience with women, of course, if only to -- by process of elimination-- confirm their own orientation. But while he’d heard the term bisexual it was largely in the context of bi-curiosity and not used as an ongoing facet of someone’s personality. He hadn’t met any man who had ongoing relationships with both sexes or any women, for that matter. Was it possible that human interaction was more complex than that? Did he know anyone who truly was not gay, not straight but something different? 

 

John was still sitting in his seat lost in contemplation when Jamie ducked out from behind the stage.  The thud of his feet hitting the aisle startlingly loud in the now empty space. 

 

“That bad was it?” Jamie quirked his eyebrow at the blonde.  

 

“No! It was-- I’ve never seen….” John was at a loss to explain. Jamie smiled.  “You must know you were amazing as was the rest of the cast but it was everything -- the whole project -- beautifully crafted. Do you know who wrote it?” John had to know. 

 

“Och...well, me, I guess.” Jamie blushed slightly. 

 

John stared at him. The man had essentially gotten a blow job and been bent over a desk --bottom to Rupert’s top-- in front of couple hundred of his classmates and not turned a hair, but praise for his writing made him self conscious? 

 

“That’s what you are studying then? Writing?” 

 

“Differential calculus.” He said. 

 

“But...but why? Your talents lie elsewhere.” John said with utter conviction. The earnest expression causing Jamie to chuckle. 

 

“Maybe so and maybe no. Ye havena seen me find the degrees of homogeneous functions yet so, for all you know, I’m an econ  genius.”

 

John looked at him for a long moment. “Actually, I would believe that, too.” 

 

“Come along, John,” Jamie said, placing his arm across John’s shoulders, “Angus is buying and I need a drink.” 

 

Try as he might, John simply could not figure the man out. Jamie had that kind of magnetic personality that drew every eye in the room, his included. He was openly affectionate with men and women, often emphasizing a point with a touch or a pat on the person next to him. 

 

He didn’t seem to give off a vibe of male invitation, but he didn’t seem opposed, either.  Come to think of it, given the context of the play he’d just seen, that wasn’t all that surprising.  Jamie was so universally demonstrative that John wouldn’t have dared venture a guess as to whether he was intimately involved with  _ any _ of the people in the bar that night, let alone attempt to pin down who.  

 

Normally, he had good instinct for reading people. He was frustrated that the knack had deserted him when it came to reading Jamie Fraser. Deep into the night, many drinks later, John found his courage as they staggered back to the dorm. 

 

“Autobiographical?” He slurred. 

 

Mmphm? Came the answer, a kind of noise either indicating that one had not been heard or the listener was unlikely to answer the question.  

 

John decided he wasn’t quite drunk enough to say what he really wanted to which was something along the lines of  _ I know we’ve just met but I’m crushing on you so hard right now, a condition that seems to get worse the longer I am in your company. Please tell me you aren’t dating anyone and are gay or bi and into freshmen _ .  

 

But John wasn’t quite confident enough to test the waters that night or any other that one year they were in college together. He spent the entire year daydreaming and fantasizing from afar. Not that he’d had that much chance of flirting at close range. He and Jamie didn’t move in the same circles-- Jamie was often surrounded by fellow highlanders-- a group John came to think of as the Lallybroch Guild. Over time John came to understand that he would never take that next step because the possibility, the hope, that someday, maybe Jamie would notice him seemed preferable to rejection. John still had no idea whether Jamie was attracted to men in real life, or even if he was whether John was his type- had no idea what Jamie’s type was at all, he certainly didn’t seem to have a steady flame which made their accidental double date all the more unexpected. 

 

John was sitting on the stone bench outside the dorm waiting for Isobel.  He’d gotten roped into an evening with the Dunsany sisters-- God help him! He’d gone to summer camp with their brother Gordon every year from age 8 to 16 and knew the family very well. 

 

Geneva attended school in the U.S. but was taking some time off after being “discovered” by a modeling agency. She just happened to be in town that weekend and insisted on seeing Isobel.  Isobel, like John, was in her first year at National. Geneva had been bugging Isobel to get out and socialize more, try dating a bit. Those two were cheese and chalk, Geneva as vivacious and outgoing as Isobel shy and solitary. 

 

Pressed to find a date for a new drive in movie theater opening that weekend, Isobel had panicked and told Geneva she was dating John. While John’s sexual orientation wasn’t a secret, he didn’t go out of his way to discuss it either. Whether Geneva believed her or not was immaterial, for her sister declared herself delighted and insisted they accompany her and her date to the movie. 

 

Trapped, Isobel had begged John’s indulgence. He would have done it no matter what to help Isobel but hearing the misery in her voice, he determined he’d try and make it as believable as possible. Geneva would soon be off in Paris or Rome or New York and the issue moot. When the sisters pulled up in Geneva’s car, John had a bit of an out of body experience for there in the passenger seat next to Geneva sat Jamie Fraser.  

 

“John.” He nodded by way of greeting. 

 

“Oh, you know each other?” Geneva asked. 

 

“Aye, John lives in my dorm.” Came the explanation. 

 

John was sure Jamie knew he wasn’t, in fact, dating Isobel and wondered if he would say anything but by the time dinner, and the two bottles of wine with it, were finished, Fraser wasn’t paying him or Isobel any attention. John couldn’t help but watch Geneva and Jamie together, fascinated. They were beautiful creatures. Tall, graceful, physically striking.  It was hard not to be captivated by their flirting. Jamie’s natural touchiness blended perfectly with Geneva’s need to be petted and fawned over. 

 

He’d seen Jamie be charming before-- hell, he’d even been a recipient of Fraser in such a mood once or twice but this was different. It was also nothing like Jamie’s stage persona.  John could not help remembering seeing Jamie simulate sexual play on stage and realized only now how superficial his acting had been, for none of it even scratched the surface. Jamie in lover mode was almost more than John could handle. The Scot went out of his way to make Geneva laugh, pitching his own enjoyment in low throaty chuckles and John could feel in his own belly. 

 

“I want one!” Geneva reached her fingers over to Jamie’s plate intending to snag a potato. Jamie’s hand, lightning quick, intercepted her and his fingers tightened hard, restraining her arm.

 

“Manners!” He scolded. Geneva huffed and pouted and, ignoring the vice like hold Jamie had on the one arm, reached her other hand over.

 

“Naughty lass! What kind of example are you setting for your little sister?” His stare was hard but his tone, playful, “Ask nice.”

 

“May I try some of yours, please?” Geneva gave him a sweet smile and batted her lashes prettily. 

 

John watched Jamie feed his “good girl” a few “tender wee bits” off his own fork. Then he trailed his fingers up her arm, “accidentally” grazing her breast once. He could see the effect it was having on Geneva, and even Isobel was not immune to the byplay between them. 

 

What exactly was it they had been drinking? John felt hotter and more bothered the longer dinner went on.  Jamie reached his hand out to tuck a curl behind Geneva’s ear, then followed up the touch with a soft whisper as he gently wrapped teeth around her delicate ear lobe. Geneva gave a sharp yelp when Jamie bit down but she leaned into Jamie, encouraging him. She was wearing diamond studs and John shuddered seeing Jamie’s tongue suck the earing into his mouth. 

 

Isobel put her hand on John’s knee beneath the table, momentarily distracting him. He’d been openly staring at them, he suddenly realized. Not only did it risk making his own feelings for Jamie too obvious, he was being a bore to his own date. 

 

John reached for Isobel’s hand and she squeezed his harder and moved until her fingers were grazing his inner thigh. He had the beginnings of a hard on which both of them knew very well hadn’t originated with her touch. 

 

Was it weird that his date was as turned on by Jamie as he was? Well, not any weirder than the fact that the object of their mutual affection was doing these things to the girl’s sister. 

 

John shrugged. Might as well be hanged for sheep as for lambs. He  _ was  _ more attracted to men, but in his experience a standing cock wasn’t the most discriminatory of creatures. He pushed Isobel’s hand a little higher and kissed her soft lips.  He was momentarily surprised when her hand closed deliberately over the bulge in his trousers and her tongue edged along his lips. 

 

Later, John would not be able to recall name of the movie. They’d hit the field ten minutes or so in and neither couple had wasted any time picking up where they had left off at the restaurant. Geneva and Jamie in the front, he and his date in the back. 

 

As John’s lips brushed Isobel’s once more, he noticed her turning slightly away from him, scooting her butt toward the edge of the back seat and leaning forward just a bit. The movie audio was barely discernible above the sounds of Jamie’s low moans and Geneva’s answering pants. They could hear the slide and slip of bodies against the leather bench seat in front. 

 

Isobel broke their kiss mid-buss when Jamie chuckled, “Christ, you are such a bad, bad girl!” This followed by a thump. 

 

Her sister cried out, “Oh yes, there!” A throaty grunt was his reply. 

 

Isobel squirmed a little next to him. John reached his hand between her legs and felt how hot she was. Not his doing, though. Both of them were more interested in what was happening in the front seat than anything else. 

 

John pulled Isobel to him. She squeaked as she felt him lift her body up and placed her firmly on his lap. 

 

His mouth came over her ear, “Can you see better now, my dear?” 

 

He almost laughed out loud at her look of stunned surprise. He gestured to the front of the car and there was no mistaking what he meant. Isobel risked taking a real look. 

 

A sigh escaped her mouth and she braced her feet on the floorboards and rocked her body a little higher. John pulled his knees in tighter, boosting  her that tiny bit more. The back of her hair tickled his chin as she nodded. Free from the distraction of entertaining Isobel, though not quite able to see himself, John closed his eyes. The effect of the wine they’d drunk making everything spin and sat back to listen instead.

 

“I’m being so good.” Geneva wheedled.

 

Jamie’s voice was pitched low but somehow that only ensured John could hear every syllable.  

 

“Aye. Is your reward having my fingers on you?” He was saying. “Or my teeth?”

 

John visualized those long, strong fingers. He missed Geneva’s reply but he heard a wet squelch. Isobel moaned and bounced in his lap. John was uncomfortably straining against his flies. 

 

“When I lick your nipple, it makes you vera wet, lass.” 

 

John cracked his eyes open in time to see Isobel place her hand on her own breast. He reached both his hands up, gentling hers out of the way.  Her nipples puckered in his palms. He reached his hand under her tee and sprung the front clasp. Isobel rocked back against his chest and his mouth came over her neck. Her fingers were in his hair and he was grinding against her ass., sliding along the silk of her skirt.  

 

“I’m hard as a stone.”  

 

Isobel shifted a little and deftly unbuttoned his pants. She helped him wriggle them down past his knees. He kissed her, tongues touching. She rubbed against him, bringing instant relief.  “Feels good.” He confirmed. 

 

“Are yer panties in the way, kitten?” Jamie asked. 

 

Isobel made a soft mewling sound and John snaked one hand between her legs and circled slowly.  She leaned forward to watch what was happening in front. Jamie’s arm came into view, pulling fabric upwards. Hers or his, he didn’t know. There was considerable shifting going on and then he saw one of Geneva’s legs brace against the passenger window. This was followed by a slurping noise. 

 

“Another finger?” Came the hard edge of a Scot’s accent.

 

A whispered, “Oh...Yes.” 

 

He heard a soft rhythmic knocking, unsure whether that was Jamie or Geneva banging against the opposite door.  

 

John watched Isobel lick her palm and her hand fisted around his length. 

 

“That’s nice!” He said and let out an embarrassingly loud moan.  

 

Jamie swore. “Christ, lass, you taste incredible.” 

 

“Oh God, Mac!” Geneva cried out. 

 

John snaked his hand under the elastic band of Isobel’s panties. She was slick and his fingers sunk deep.  

 

He saw the couple in the front shift position. Then Geneva’s legs were being hoisted on top of Jamie’s shoulders. Jamie’s shirt was unbuttoned and Geneva was naked save her bra, twisted around her waist. He braced her back with his arms, lifting her high enough to bring her core to his mouth. John gasped as he realized Jamie was making sure he and Isobel saw exactly what they were doing. Jamie humming deep in his throat and  Geneva riding his mouth. 

 

Isobel tightened around his fingers, moving against his hand in tune with what she was watching. She had all but forgotten John’s aching cock  in her revery. 

 

“Please, Mac. Oh, please!” Geneva whimpered. 

 

“Pet?” Jamie’s voice sounded strained but Geneva didn’t reply. Jamie tried again, ”What do ye need?”

 

“Harder!” Isobel’s demand cut through everything else and there was a breathless pause. 

 

“Like that, Izzy?” John asked, uncertain whether Isobel meant him or Jamie, but eager to do her bidding.

 

“M--more!” Isobel was rocking back and forth now, so close. 

 

“Oh y...yes!” Geneva’s hands come up to play with her breasts. 

 

John leaned up and in a whisper, meant for Isobel, but he knew Jamie would hear, “You like watching your sister? Shall we see if we can make you come at the same time?” 

 

Jamie softly moaned and looked directly at John, lips slanted in a crooked grin, the glint of determination in his eyes. A wave of desire made John’s insides quiver. Touching Isobel faster now, John watched Jamie pick up the same hard rhythm.   

 

The sisters both started moaning, a call followed by it’s twin echo bouncing around the enclosed space of the car. At the end, meek little Isobel was the louder of the two. 

 

John barely had time to catch his breath when he felt the warm, wet center of Isobel slide down on him. She was still facing away from him, toward the front. 

 

Jamie sat against the seat, back turned to John, red curls catching the flicker of light from the movie.  Geneva no longer in John’s line of sight. He saw Jamie rise up off the front seat and then settle once more. His head dropping like a stone along the top of the bench seat.   

 

“God, but you’ve got the most talented tongue, Gen!” He praised. 

 

Isobel was rolling her hips, providing much needed friction. John placed a hand in the middle of her back and gently pushed her forward so he could stare at her ass while she fucked him. He was distracted for a time until a choking sound caused him to look up. 

 

He fought hard not to come when he saw that Isobel was resting her cheek against the top of the front seat. Her parted mouth a hairsbreadth from Jamie’s forehead. John knew Jamie had noticed because his hand was fisted in Isobel’s curls and she was panting in time with the rise and fall of Jamie’s hips. 

 

John let out a strangled groan. This was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. 

 

“That’s my girl,” Jamie was crooning, though to which sister, John wasn’t sure. “There’s a sweet lass.”

 

John’s thumb slipped between Isobel’s butt cheeks and he pressed home. He could feel his balls start to seize and suddenly Jamie’s eyes met his in the rear view mirror. He was breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

 

“Come for me.” Jamie commanded, John knew he was talking to him even though Isobel cried out and began bucking against him.  

 

John briefly slid his eyes closed in concentration and when he reopened them it was to the sight of Jamie arching up off the seat, one forearm clenched visibly as he pushed Geneva’s head down in front and the other pressing Isobel’s face firmly against his own, his mouth right in her ear. 

 

“Good Girl, Christ yer such a good girl.” Jamie cooed, fingers stroking her hair and Isobel repeating, “Oh, Thank you, Daddy….thank you.” Both of them quivering in the aftermath. 

 

“Oh fuck---” John cried out as he emptied himself into Isobel. 


End file.
